


hurt

by blamethenargless



Series: Catradora Week 2018 [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, Last words, No Romance, Post-Canon, uhhh this is very short and also sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 06:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blamethenargless/pseuds/blamethenargless
Summary: “Oh, damn the theatrics. Just kill me now and get it over with.”orThe war's coming to a close. One side has to win.





	hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This is my work for day two of Catradora Week 2018. I chose the prompt lasts. As always, everything belongs to the creator. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, in this work, Catradora is NOT together. Let me restate that: NOT together, because I would never want to depict an unhealthy relationship. And murder isn't exactly healthy for a relationship, yo. This is just some classic we-used-to-be-friends-but-now-we-have-to-fight angst.

“And now look at you!” Catra roars, arms spread wide. Blood is pooling right below her chest, and dirt streaks her hands. “You got everything you wanted. You got your freedom. Your happiness. Your picture-perfect friends and your picture-perfect rebellion. Your war. You won your war, and  _ look  _ at you. You don’t even seem grateful.” She doesn’t have enough energy to sneer, but she tries anyway. She takes a step forward, claws out, and stumbles. 

Falls. Hits the ground hard, hits the ground panting.

She-Ra stands above her, sword raised high.

“Oh, damn the theatrics. Just kill me now and get it over with,” Catra says. She pushes herself up to a crouch, wincing at the pain in her ribs and the slash in her side. “Put your sword through my neck, princess. It’ll be a fitting end. I was always second best.”

And then it’s not She-Ra any more; it’s Adora, and Adora’s crying. Sobbing. She plants her sword in the ground and drops to her knees, cupping Catra’s face in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not sorry enough. We all knew it would have to end like this. You were always an idealist. So, no, you’re not going to get the sunshine-and-flowers ending that you wanted. But you still get to win. And— _ gah _ —isn’t winning enough?” Catra glares at Adora, her gaze cutting. Her headdress is gone, and her hair falls choppily to her shoulders. Blood is dripping into her blue eye. Her lip’s split.

“I don’t know what got into me. I should have stopped this long ago.”

“Yeah. Should have surrendered. Should have come back home. Come back to  _ me _ , Adora. But it’s too late. You won. And this is the price you have to pay.” Despite herself, despite the fact that she’s losing a war and losing her life, Catra grins. It’s a wicked, wicked thing.

“I really...I really hurt you like that?” Adora gestures to the blood spilling from a deep cut across Catra’s stomach.

“You’ve hurt me a lot worse, Adora. You’ve hurt me a lot worse.”

Adora’s choking back a sob when Catra falls still in her arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos/Comments always appreciated :)


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